


The Shop Around the Corner

by professortennant



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-03-01 15:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: Samantha Carter is the owner of Pegasus, a struggling independent bookstore facing the advent of the digital age, who decides to rent out the apartment over the shop to a recently divorced Jack O'Neill, an instructor at the Air Force Academy.All she has to do is save her struggling shop and stop drooling over her new tenant. Some things are easier said than done, though.





	1. Pegasus

“You _have_ to start with Sagan, though. Once you get through Sagan, we’ll tackle Neil deGrasse Tyson.”

 

“But what about Stephen Hawking?”

 

Sam let out a laugh and nudged the little boy’s shoulder beside her, ruffling his hair and pushing the stack of books into his arms. “How about we walk before we run, Charlie?”

 

Charlie O’Neill, all of nine years old, grinned impishly up at her, cradling his newfound treasures to his chest reverently. “Deal, Sam.”

 

The sound of a voice clearing interrupted them both and Sam and Charlie looked up to see a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and warm, brown eyes leaning against the doorjamb of her office doorway, toned arms folded across his chest. 

 

Charlie leapt up from his chair besides Sam and held out the stack of books she had given him, mouth already running a mile a minute about the cosmos and the origins of life and stardust and—

 

Jack laughed and took the books from his son, cradling them under his arm. “Alright, alright I get it Neil Armstrong, you like space.” He turned his attention from his son to Sam, who was watching the exchange with a smile on her lips. 

 

It was nice seeing a father who cared so much for his son, who didn’t belittle or demean his interests, and instead took an active interest in them himself. She knew this because she had snuck Jack a copy of Sagan’s _Contact_ for his own so he could read along with Charlie.

 

“I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble, Sam. The academy kept me a little late and—“

 

But she waved him off, shooting Charlie a grin. “No trouble at all. Any time Charlie wants to put on one of the shop’s aprons and help out on the weekends, he’s more than welcome. I could use the extra hands.”

 

Charlie beamed at her before turning to his father, tone bordering on petulant. “ _See?_ I told you, dad. Sam likes me!”

 

Jack rolled his eyes at his son before gently pushing him out the door and towards the winding staircase tucked in the back of the shop that led up to the O’Neill apartment. 

 

“Thanks again, Sam,” Jack said over his shoulder, attention already shifting and turning towards his son who was bounding up the stairs and also shouting his thanks at her, as well.

 

Sam waved her goodbye with an awkward wiggle of her fingers and a soft, “Anytime.” She watched her two lodgers disappear up the stairs, stealing a moment for herself to admire the tight, round curve of Jack’s backside as the Air Force trousers stretched across his body with each step taken.

 

She felt her head lolling to the side as she tried her hardest to follow their path up the stairs, her mouth parting as her mind wandered with the start of about a hundred thousand different fantasies…

 

“You are drooling again, Samantha.” 

 

The deep voice of her favorite—and only—employee, Teal’c, jarred her out of the beginnings of the latest fantasy featuring her lodger. She snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. 

 

“I don’t know what you're talking about, Teal’c. I was just making sure that, uh, they got up the stairs alright. Jack mentioned one of the steps was creaking the other week and I haven’t gotten around to fixing it yet, that’s all.”

 

An impressively raised eyebrow and a slight bowing of his head was the only answer she received. “Of course.”

 

She ran a hand through her hair distractedly, ruffling the already short hairs and sending them standing up on end. “I’m not stupid enough to mix business and pleasure, Teal’c. You know me better than that. He’s just my tenant and his kid’s cute.”

 

“I would never suggest impropriety on your part, Samantha. Only an observation that your tendency towards ogling his backside—“

 

“Hey! I do not _ogle_ —“

 

“ _And_ ,” Teal’c continued, voice smooth and nonplussed at her interruption. “You smile the most when either or both O’Neill’s are around.”

 

Heat burned her cheeks with the force of her blush and she slumped back into her office chair. “Can you blame me? With the way the shop has been struggling the last few months, there’s not much else to be happy about.”

 

_Pegasus Books_ had been in her family for as long as she could remember. Her entire childhood was tucked away within the these four walls, captured between the pages of each book that had borne witness to her mother lifting her up high to help stock the shelves she couldn’t quite reach. When her mother had passed away, it had been a natural conclusion that Sam would take over _Pegasus_ , her love for the store as exponential as the stars. 

 

But sales were sagging with the rise of online retailers and patrons with less and less disposable income to spend on glossy coffee table books of the cosmos and novels detailing scientific concepts when YouTube and documentaries existed in the world.

 

The decision to bring in a little extra revenue by renting out the old apartment above the shop had been a no-brainer. Jack O’Neill had been the only one to answer her _Lodger Wanted_ ad. For six months, he’d been the perfect tenant. Rent always on time, no excessive noise, and he didn’t mind having an entire shop beneath his feet at any given moment. 

 

She had learned in their first interview together that he was an instructor at the Air Force Academy just a few miles up the road and that he had a nine year old son, Charlie, from his previous marriage which had ended in an amicable divorce. She’d met his ex-wife, Sara, on a handful of occasions, and had liked her immensely. 

 

(She’d liked the Mazda MX-5 Sara had driven even more, with its gleaming panels and even more spotless engine that Sam had practically begged the woman to let her see. Jack had watched in abject horror as the two woman began pointing out the beauties and intricacies of this particular model’s engine and features, finally departing with a spur-of-the-moment hug and an exchange of numbers and a promise to be in contact.)

 

But Jack was more than just a good tenant and a great source of income relief and the occasional piece of eye candy. He was handy, too. He’d built her two new bookshelves to bookend either side of the cash register so she could display the week’s new releases and recommendations more easily. 

 

And on the nights when she had to pore over the store’s ledgers, music playing softly in the background to keep her awake and focused, he had tiptoed down the stairs from his apartment with a beer and a plate of hot food for her. 

 

“Can’t have you passing out on me,” he said with a shrug as she protested taking his food and drink. “Besides, I like it here, Carter, and apartment hunting’s a real bitch.”

 

Charlie, too, was an addition to her life that she wasn’t expecting but had become wholly enamored with. The youngest O’Neill was a riot of curious energy that reminded her of herself when she was his age. More days than not, Charlie was following her or Teal’c or their store cat, Daniel, around and asking all manner of questions about the bookshop, wondering when he could start working for her. 

 

Watching after Charlie after school wasn’t the burden that Jack seemed to be so concerned it was. She didn’t know how to tell him that she looked forward to the sound of the school bus around the corner every Friday and the sound of Charlie’s voice greeting her enthusiastically the minute he got his feet through _Pegasus_ ’ shop doors.

 

So, sure, she was harboring a bit of a crush on the hot military man with the super cute son who sometimes took care of her. She was only human. 

 

She sighed and shook her head, willing thoughts of the O’Neill family to leave her brain for a little longer this evening, and closed the store’s ledgers and sales reports from her open laptop. She smiled thinly at Teal’c, waving off his look of concern. 

 

“We’ll be okay, Teal’c. _Pegasus_ has survived this long, it’ll survive through a little dry spell. We just need one good boost to get us through the rest of the year. I’ll think of something,” she reassured him, getting up from the desk and switching off the lamps and lights around the store and grabbing her purse, readying herself to lock up.

 

Teal’c put a large hand on her arm, stopping her almost-frantic movements. “You always do, Samantha. I have faith in you and this shop.”

 

On the drive home, with the darkened storefront of _Pegasus_ behind her, Sam considered her future and her goals: Stop drooling and ogling over Jack O’Neill. Pay the bills (and her too-patient employee). Save the store.

 

_Easy_.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s turning out to be one of the worst weeks of Samantha Carter’s life. Well, the worst she’s had in a long, long time. _Pegasus Books_ had scraped enough profit over the last month to pay the publishers and the warehouses that they owed from the last billing cycle and enough extra cash to cover the shipping costs of the returnable books in their inventory. The refund from that stock would hit their accounts in the next week or so and give them some more breathing room. 

 

Financial worries aside, Sam felt like the harmless crush on Jack O’Neill had morphed into something more akin to _longing_ and teetering dangerously close to love. More and more, the prospect of catching Jack walking out the door on the way to the academy rather than the excitement of opening the store itself was her motivation for rolling out of bed in the mornings. 

 

For a few days, his coffee maker had been out of commission and she’d taken to brewing an extra cup of coffee for him in the mornings. To her great delight, she’d learned he took his coffee with more cream and sugar in it than coffee itself. He’d grinned at her and shrugged, slipping his aviators and cover on, and disappeared out the door, humming to himself and leaving Sam behind to think about the way her skin tingled where their fingers brushed when passing the coffee between them. 

 

But it was more than that—of course it was. It was the way she occasionally caught Jack and Charlie in the park around the corner from the store playing baseball and she found herself hypnotized by their laughter, by the sunshine in the grass, by the picture of _family_ that she’d longed for. She caught her feet making a step towards them, itching to scoop Charlie up and run with him on her back around the bases as Jack pretended to fumble an easy grounder. 

 

She’d caught herself before stepping forward but something drew Jack’s attention to her and she felt her face flush with embarrassment and delight as a slow, easy smile bloomed over his face and he waved at her. She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers back at him before hurrying towards the store. 

 

She felt like she was spinning out of orbit and every time she saw Jack, she felt like her feelings were exposed for all the world to see. Between her pale skin revealing every blush and her nervous laughter and the way she kept nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, she wondered if Jack was oblivious to her feelings or painfully aware and simply not interested.

 

For all of her adrenaline junkie tendencies, she couldn’t quite stand the thought of barreling towards that question and finding out the answer. Besides, he was her _tenant_. Even if he was interested, it was too complicated—conflict of interests and all that, she supposes. 

 

Still, she thinks she’s handling everything as best as she can. 

 

And then Teal’c calls in sick for the first time in his life on the same day that she puts out a big sign on the sidewalk in front of her store announcing a discount on purchases of forty dollars or more and her tiny little independent bookstore absolutely explodes with business. 

 

She's juggling answering the phone, checking customers out, and assisting her patrons when Jack walks in with a paper bag full of groceries. He takes one look at her and her frenzied state before jogging up the stairs to his apartment and returning moments later in his soft, worn plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up and a determined look on his face.

 

She wonders if that’s what he looks like when he’s assessing a combat situation, scanning the perimeter and incoming hostiles. Only instead of hostiles, she’s got a shop full of demanding customers.

 

"Put me to work, Carter," he says simply. She doesn't have time to feel gratitude right now, just points him in the direction of the computer with the line of customers with stacks of books in their hands. 

 

“It should be easy enough,” she tells him, gesturing to the scanner and the point of sales system. “Point and scan, select the payment method, follow the on-screen prompts.”

 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” 

 

He mock salutes her and then places a warm hand on her elbow in support before making a beeline for the register, a full blown O’Neill smile on his face, ready to charm the pants off of every single one of her customers and make them forget why they were irritated in the first place. 

 

The extra set of hands helps immensely and when the final customer leaves with a wave and a grin and a bag full of books, she quickly flips the sign on the door from _Open_ to _Closed,_ flicks the front-of-store lights off, and slumps down behind the counter that houses the cash register and puts her head in her hands. 

 

Jack sits down beside her with a soft _oomph_ and she swears she can hear his knees crack loudly. He’s warm against her, shoulder and thigh brushing hers, and she wonders if it would be too forward of her to ask if she can just use him like a human heating pad to soothe her sore muscles from standing on her feet all day and running around. 

 

Before the thought can escape her lips, he nudges her shoulder with his. 

 

"Hell of a day," he comments lightly, teasing, before turning mock-thoughtful. “This means you can knock my rent down, right? I mean, what’s the going wage for a part-time bookstore employee these days?”

 

Sam rolls her eyes and hopes she doesn't look as exhausted and worn out as she feels. 

 

"If i had the energy," she murmurs through her hands over her mouth and face. “I'd hit you for that."

 

"That's landlord abuse, y'know."

 

She groans, exhausted, and slumps against his side, too tired to keep up any pretenses. Beneath her cheek, she can feel him tense and she realizes that they don't do this—this easy comfort and physical contact.They exchange small talk and she steals glances at his ass and that's about it. He has no idea about the secret fantasies she harbors about him. 

 

Coughing lightly, she pulls back and pushes herself to her feet awkwardly, bundling up the cash and credit card receipts from the register, mind working hard to fill in the silence. So she does what she does best: she babbles.

 

"Well, thanks for your help, Jack. I really, _really_ appreciate it. Of course, I’ll take off what I would have paid Teal'c from your rent. I'll--"

 

"Sam," he interrupts, voice low and close. She shivers, can feel him behind her, warm and solid. When did he move?

 

"Given how often Charlie bugs you after school and most weekend, I think _I’m_ the one who owes _you_."

 

"He doesn't bug me," she protests, writing down the day's cash intake and putting the cash bag into the vault beneath the register, twisting the combination lock. "Charlie's a great kid."

 

The smile on Jack's face is blinding and immediate. "Yeah, he is.”

 

“He with Sara this weekend? I missed him last night. I pulled a few new books for him.”

 

Jack leans against the counter and watches her clean up the last bits and bobs needed before closing up for good. “Carter, you _could_ just give him the names of these books and let us go to the library. Where books are, y’know, free and doesn’t affect your inventory.”

 

She wipes down the counters and shrugs. “I like ordering them for him. He, uh, reminds me of me when I was his age.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. I used to come here with my mom and beg her to pick me out a book for that week. It was like—“ She stops wiping down the counters to find the right words to convey how important, how formative, those moments with her mom and this bookstore were to her. “It was like I got little tangible pieces of her to carry with me.”

 

It sounds overly sentimental the moment she hears the words float into the air and she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, looking up to meet Jack’s face, hoping she hadn’t overshared. 

 

But Jack’s normally light brown eyes were dark and focused on her, listening intently. She thinks, for a second, that he almost looks _hungry_ for this information and she feels her skin tingle under his scrutiny. 

 

And then Daniel hopes up onto the counter, purring loudly, his big blue eyes peering between the two of them curiously. Sam rolls her eyes and moves to push the lithe cat off the counter she just cleared of dust and cat hair. 

 

Jack huffs a laugh at the look of disdain Daniel gives them both at the indignity of being pushed away with so little ceremony. 

 

“I’m pretty sure that cat hates me,” Jack comments in a stage-whisper to Sam who looks bemused and grateful for the change of topic. 

 

“Oh?”

 

Jack nods. “I tried to pet him earlier but he hissed at me and wouldn’t let me anywhere near him.”

 

Sam frowns and then grins. “Was he sleeping on the Egyptology book?”

 

“Uh, yeah, I think so?”

 

“Yeah, he doesn’t let anyone near those books. It’s Daniel’s special place. Hisses at everyone who walks by. Don’t take it personally.”

 

Sam grabs her bag from the beneath the counter next to the vault and reaches behind her on the wall to switch off the main lights in the store, bathing them in the low light of the corner lamp still alight. 

 

"Well," she says slowly, playing with her keys and the strap of her purse. She hadn't been near Jack in the evening like this before—alone, that is— and it felt suspiciously like the end of a date.

 

To her surprise and delight, Jack seems just as reluctant to let the day end. He walks with her to the front of the storefront’s door, the bottom of the stairs that lead to his apartment just behind them. 

 

 

“Listen," he starts, rubbing his hand over his hair. She likes the way the silver strands stick up in all directions. "Charlie's coming over tomorrow night and we're grilling hot dogs on the roof and, uh, maybe going to give my old telescope a go. I figure, y'know, with all of this," he gestured to the books on space that decorate the majority of the store. "That you may be interested in joining? Uh, if you'e free, that is."

 

Her heart leaps from her stomach into her throat and she finds herself swallowing against a suddenly dry mouth. "Yeah," she agrees with a smile, heart hammering. "I'd like that."

 

"Great! Well then, uh, it's a date."

 

"It's a date," she agrees softly, reaching for the handle of the door behind her. Jack reaches for the door too and their fingers brush over the doorknob. Electricity zings up her arm and she forces herself to meet his eyes and there it is again, that look from earlier. His eyes are dark and focused and she feels his fingers flex on her hand, squeezing, before withdrawing and stepping back. 

 

“I’ll lock up behind you,” he tells her, stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “And I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

 

She likes that he phrases it as a given, not a question, not looking for reassurance. Butterflies release in her stomach and she nods. 

 

“See you tomorrow night.”

 

The memory of his hand on hers, the look in his eyes, the casual, easy conversation and the quick, efficient way they worked together that day keeps her company all the way home.

 

She has a date with the O’Neill’s tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i made daniel a cat. and yes, i'm starting another WIP even though I haven't finished my other WIP. and //yes//, this is basically an outlandish romantic comedy. but it's gonna be fun as hell. rating may change later in the story, so keep an eye out for that! hope you guys like!


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